


100 mph

by missred



Series: Saturday [3]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: College, Exhaustion, Fever, Friendship, Gen, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, sick pete wentz, the end of the series that literally no asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-03 20:59:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16333376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missred/pseuds/missred
Summary: Pete slows down and life catches up with him. Luckily, so does Andy.





	100 mph

The official diagnosis was stress-induced fatigue. Which was a fancy way of saying he did a lot of stuff really quickly without a lot of sleep and his body went haywire. Pete felt pretty stupid about it. He’d pulled plenty of all-nighters, some a few nights in a row, and never felt like this. They kept him overnight and pumped him full of fever meds and electrolytes and he had to drink a gross smoothie thing. The dizziness, heart racing, and crazy tired feeling were all just his body being pissed at how he treated it over the last couple weeks. The doctor told him the fever and headache were probably a virus he picked up when his immune system was shot from dealing with everything else. 

 

After about an hour with an IV, he’d started to feel better, but by that point it was already technically Monday morning, and the nurse convinced him to stay. The upside was that he no longer felt like he was going to fall over at any second. The downside was that the more lucid he got, the more he wanted to rip his IV out, grab Andy and just  _ go _ .

 

Andy had been a silent but sure prescence while the doctor examined Pete, and he noticed Pete shift from dazed to antsy.

“What’s wrong?” He asked quietly.

Pete recognized his tone as the same one Andy used on stray cats, and he worked on keeping his voice level and calm.

“Just. Don’t love hospitals. Can’t I just take some tylenol and sleep it off at home?”   
“You tried that.” Andy reminded him gently. “This is a little more complicated than a hangover. Let them help.”

“I  _ am _ . But you know, help could be less needle-y, and hospital-y. And more in my bed and very far away from here.”

Andy sighed and cocked his head, considering. Then he pushed himself out of the chair in the corner and climbed into bed next to Pete. 

“Dude..this is..you don’t have to--”

Andy hipbumped him until they could fit mostly side-by-side, and slung an arm around Pete so his head lay comfortably on Andy’s chest.

“Better?”

“I’m not like-- _ bad _ , you can go home, I know it’s late and I’ll be fine in the morning, and--”

Andy cut Pete off with a brief squeeze.

“I know you’ll be fine, but I’m not gonna leave you alone in a hospital at 2 a.m. And I’m not gonna sit here and watch you panic either, I just want to make sure I’m not making anything worse. So, is this better?”

Pete bit his lip. This close, the world smelled less like hospital and more like Andy--familiar, safe. Andy’s heartbeat was slow and steady and he could feel his own frantic pulse slowing to  match it. 

 

“Yeah,” he admitted, “This is better.”

 

“Good.” Andy hummed. “Then let’s go the fuck to sleep.”

 

* * *

 

 

There was a different doctor in the morning, who looked over his vitals and said he was clear to go home, as long as he kept drinking water and spent a few days taking it easy.

Pete shrugged, nodded, and signed a bunch of paperwork. It seemed fair enough. The car ride home was quiet. Pete wasn’t  _ embarrassed _ , exactly, but the strange combination of gratitude and chagrin kept him silent while Andy drove. He felt a little ashamed that he’d had to go to the hospital over a couple weeks of shitty sleeping, and more than a little bad that Andy had ended up caught in the middle of all of it. 

 

When they pulled up to his apartment, Pete rushed out.

“Thanks, you know, for everything.” He said, slamming the passenger door.

To his surprise, Andy was out of the car a second later. He grabbed Pete’s shoulder and said, 

“Hey. You can kick me out if you really want to be alone, but otherwise there’s no way in hell I’m leaving until at least like, Thursday.”

“Don’t you want to, I don’t know, go celebrate being a graduated person or something?” Pete asked, perplexed. 

“Absolutely.” Andy nodded solemnly. “And I can’t think of a better way than marathoning all crap tv I missed when I was studying for finals and kicking your butt in Smash Bros.”

“Well shit.” Pete said. “I’m not gonna argue with that.”

Pete dug around in his pocket for his keys, and watched, confused as Andy pulled them from his own back pocket. 

“You weren’t exactly thinking ahead when we left.”

“You’re really something, you know that, Hurley?”

“Yup.” Andy replied, popping the “P”. 

“I’m your best friend, dipshit.”

Pete flopped onto the couch and for a split second he felt weird and raw, like he might cry.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Nice!” Andy grinned. “It only took what, five years for you to get it?”

“Hey!” Pete protested as the uneasy feeling in his chest relaxed, “Better late than never.”

Andy joined him on the couch and shrugged, laughing. 

“Sure, Wentz. I’m going nowhere fast.”

“Dude.” Pete paused, the weight of the past few days really hitting him.“We made it.”

“Damn right.” Andy nodded. 

Tomorrow, Pete knew, he would probably start to feel the creeping anxiety. The urge to move, go, do something,  anything, faster and faster and faster. For the first time in his life, he had no idea what his world would look like next week, next month, or next year.  For now though, he knew that Andy would be in it. And that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> This my fic equivalent of looking for a Thing and realizing no one has done the exact Thing you want so you have to do it yourself.
> 
> AKA known as literally nobody asked but here's 4k of Pete and Andy being friends via a lot of h/c


End file.
